


For The Fallen

by Blackpearl



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:11:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackpearl/pseuds/Blackpearl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILERS! Set after the end of series eight. Don't read if you haven't seen it. All characters owned by Kudos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The Fallen

"Ros!" Lucas shouted, but it was too late; the building had gone up in a fireball. Everything inside it had been incinerated. Lucas was flung backwards through the air due to the force of the explosion. He fell to the floor, smashing down on the hard concrete. His ears were ringing with the noise of it; somewhere, someone was calling his name over and over again.

"Lucas! Lucas!"

Lucas got groggily to his feet, dusting himself down and stretching his back. Gingerly he touched the back of his head, where he could feel a lump forming.

"Lucas, are you okay?" It was Harry that was calling his name, though to Lucas his voice was muffled.

Lucas felt himself nod. "Yeah I think so; maybe a few broken ribs…" he trailed off and looked up at the fiery building. "Ros was still in there."

"I know. We need to get out of here Lucas," said Harry quietly, as people started bustling around them.

"I don't-" Lucas began, but Harry cut him off.

"You don't have a choice."

Back at the Grid, Harry, Lucas, Ruth and Tariq sat around the table in the conference room. It was late: about ten o'clock at night and everyone else had gone home. The Grid was empty and quiet. They sat in silence; the sorrow in the air was tangible. Ruth was crying, and had been for some time. Harry had his head in his hands, his thoughts in turmoil. Tariq was staring at the table and Lucas was gazing blankly out of the glass wall at the empty Grid. He could see Ros' desk from here. An unopened bottle of whisky sat in the middle of them, surrounded by four glasses. None of them had ever thought that Ros would be one to die. She was one of the toughest people on the Grid. She could not be dead.

"I propose a toast," Harry said, after a considerable amount of time.

"Why?" Ruth asked quietly.

"Because I feel it is appropriate." Harry began to pour out the whisky into the glasses.

"How often do things like this happen?" Tariq asked glumly, running his finger around the rim of the glass.

"With increasing regularity," replied Harry.

"I never thought…Ros…dead?" Ruth seemed incapable of speaking, and Harry looked over at her, a great sadness in his eyes at the fact that she was hurting.

"No one thought it would ever be her. She was brave and strong and selfless…there aren't enough people like her in the world," said Lucas.

"She was cold and ruthless when she had to be. I didn't know her well, but I liked her." Tariq added his bit.

"Underneath the icy exterior she had a heart. But other than that she was a cold, hard b*tch," Harry said.

They all laughed briefly, but it was short-lived.

"I can't help thinking of all the others who have died for their country; all those people that we knew and loved. And now, they're gone," Ruth said after another lapse into silence.

"Jo," said Tariq.

"Ben," Lucas said sadly. "Connie."

"Adam. Zaf. Fiona. Danny. Helen," Harry continued. "Plus the countless CO19 officers that have given their lives."

Ruth sighed as she rubbed her eyes, trying to stem the tears. "What are we going to do now?" she asked heavily.

"We'll have to hire some new recruits. A whole new generation," said Harry.

"It won't be the same," protested Ruth wearily.

"Nothing will ever be the same," said Lucas.

"But we will carry on. We are few against many, and we have lost our friends. But we have to carry on. We do this for her, for them." Harry looked at Ruth again, who was trying to stop herself from breaking down.

"Agreed," Lucas said, determination on his face. "And if we lose our lives, then so be it. We become one of those names."

"For the fallen." Harry raised his glass.

They all clinked glasses.

"For the fallen."


End file.
